


Displaying This Emotion Can ENDANGER Your Life

by eggstasy



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, M/M, Season/Series 06, it's kinda just sort of casual experimentation, ship is not actually there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 01:30:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5438495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggstasy/pseuds/eggstasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He gets used to the Chantilly lace all over the place and eventually stops asking how the hell Donut got that out here when he can't even get any fucking chapstick shipped in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Displaying This Emotion Can ENDANGER Your Life

Junior likes Donut right away and Tucker has no idea why. The guy is not only a moron but makes everything weird every second of the day. He also demands that his lifetime subscription of Cosmo be redirected to his new assignment and if he didn't get it _You'll really hear it then, buster!_    Tucker doesn't think the officers gave a single cumulative shit among them.

Donut generally gets in the way of roughly everything. Trying to work with the dig crews was already a nuisance because there were a bunch of the Sangheili giving Tucker and Junior nasty shit-on-my-shoe looks, and then a bunch of them just looking at Junior like they'd want to lay flowers at his feet. Junior kept close to Tucker a lot. Tucker did not like the looks on their faces...y'know if he could figure out what those looks meant.  It didn't take long for him to start picking up words in their language, but fucking Donut kept trying to talk to them in his shitty high school Spanish, like they were going to have a common language there.

Tucker doesn't know if he was amazed or furious that one of those alien assholes actually _did_ know Spanish, and he and Donut chatted happily away in it whenever they could which led Tucker to believe that neither of them actually knew Spanish, they were just kind of making up the conversation themselves.

People started filtering away when it looked like they weren't going to find anything, getting reassigned to more pressing locations until there were only a couple humans and Sangheili left aside from Tucker, Donut and Junior. Junior had started getting really curious about his other dad's culture and while Tucker was really getting attached to the kid and didn't want him to go back with them, he couldn't tell him no if he wanted to. What did Tucker know about raising a kid anyway? He'd probably screw him up somehow.

"You will not," Donut says breezily, because somehow Tucker had ended up talking to him about it because his conversational options were limited and at least Donut was familiar with their particular brand of stupid. _Was_ their particular brand, in a lot of cases.

"Yeah? What makes you an expert?" Tucker unclasps his helmet and leans his head back against the stone. Fuck, he hates this place. Everything about him is dry; his fingernails, his mouth, his skin, his scalp. Goddamn, his scalp is dry and itchy; this desert is ruining his beautiful hair.

"Trust me, I know awful dads." Donut loops his arms around his knees and clasps his wrists, tilting his head as he looks at Tucker. His helmet's still on and it makes Tucker feel kind of peeled open and vulnerable, being the only one with readable expressions, but he supposes that's his own fault. "Iowa hasn't really changed, like, ever. I wasn't what my dad wanted but I was all he got. He was a bad father."

Tucker doesn't know what to say to that.

"But!" Donut chirps everything he says, like he's not talking about his abusive parents and it makes Tucker feel both awkward and relieved. "That just means I'm an expert on dads. On one side of the spectrum anyway. You're not expecting anything from Junior except for him to do what makes him happy. That's like, the best fathering there is."

Something uncomfortable and warm settles in Tucker's gut and he looks away, sniffing. Even the inside of his nose is dry. He doesn't even remember how many nosebleeds he's gotten since he's come out here. "Yeah, well." He doesn't follow that up with anything. Doesn't _have_ anything.

"Man Tucker, your scalp is wrecked as heck! Hold on here, I've got just the thing." Donut jumps up and comes back with one of his cosmetics bags, digging around in it until he produces a bottle. "Here."

"I swear to Christ Donut, if this is lube-"

"Of course not! That's _expensive,_  I'm not just giving that away." Donut taps the bottle. "It's scalp treatment oil. I dry out easily too, so maybe this'll help keep your hair together."

If Tucker experiences one more feeling toward this moron he's going to sink into the ground. He clutches the bottle and tries not to think about what kind of face he's making, tries not to think about Church bitching and laughing and bitching some more or Caboose yelling stupid shit somewhere inside the base while he lays on top of it. "Yeah. Uhhh cool. Thanks or whatever."

Donut laughs like he knows something Tucker doesn't and surprises Tucker with a kind of manly slap to the back. "Sure! We've got to look out for each other, right? We're the only ones from home out here." He goes back to rifling through his bag, humming happily to himself and leaving Tucker with that emotional fallout to deal with.

* * *

A few months in and Tucker's starting to get used to Donut being weird about everything he does and says. He gets used to the TEN WAYS TO GIVE HIM MINDBLOWING SEX!! headlines around their shared quarters. He gets used to the Chantilly lace all over the place and eventually stops asking how the hell Donut got that out here when he can't even get any fucking chapstick shipped in. He stops questioning it when Donut says "That's ONE cavern I'd LOVE to penetrate!" when they find a new chamber to explore and instead just says "Go for it dude, you've got first dibs." It makes Donut happy and that makes everyone else around happy because he's the opposite of an emotional sponge. He's like an emotional fountain, pouring out all kinds of emotions everywhere, and holy shit Tucker's thought process is a lot gayer after spending a few months in close quarters with Donut.

...Plus, if Donut goes in first then Tucker doesn't have to worry about tripping any booby traps himself ("Man, I sure do hate these boobies!" Donut says. "I know you do, dude," answers Tucker, every time).

It's not until they're kicking it back in their shared quarters, Tucker lounging on his bunk and Donut doing the same on his own, Junior growling happily as he chews on something of Tucker's because his third set of teeth is coming in that Tucker realizes he actually kind of likes the guy. "What're you reading now?"

"Oh my god," says Donut with the kind of excitement people use to accept million dollar checks, "it's the annual Beautify Yourself special issue. There are so many industry secrets in here it's practically an E! Magazine exclusive." He turns a page.

"Well shit man, share the wealth." Tucker doesn't know what possesses him to ask, but he figures it's at least good for a laugh.

And then Donut chuckles. Which is wrong, because he was supposed to be serious about this and _Tucker_ was supposed to laugh. "Oh Tucker," he chortles, foot tapping idly to music that's nobody can hear, "you don't need to hear any of this."

Used to insults, Tucker bristles. "The hell does that mean? I'm fucking smokin', dude."

"Well yeah, that's why."

Tucker kind of goes still and listens to Junior tear off chunks of what's probably his only pair of shoes. "Uh."

Donut peers at Tucker over the edge of his magazine. "...really? I mean, you obviously know you're gorgeous."

Tucker can feel his face heat up and he sighs and rolls his eyes, because sure yeah he _knows_ but he's not- That doesn't mean people can just assume that shit without telling him first or anything. Yeah, that's the problem. It's not because Donut's obviously got something  approaching good taste in guys and he's telling- Look, lots of chicks have told him that he's hot (although it's usually followed by something like "too bad you're such a sleaze though,") so it's not like it's something he didn't-

It's- _look,_ it's not-

"Okay, I don't get this." Donut actually puts his magazine down and props himself up on an elbow, arm draped over his side like he's some kind of French model. "What is this? Simmons, I get. He's a product of his environment. But you? I don't get it at all."

"Get what?" Hopefully it's a lead away from their previous conversation so that Tucker can figure out how to feel about the fact that Donut thinks he's hot.

"This." Donut gestures. It clears nothing up. "The whole _ew gross guys kissing is nasty_ thing. It's not your style."

Tucker sputters. This is worse. This is much worse.

"I mean, I can tell you don't care because of all that stuff you keep saying about Grif and Simmons but why when it's at you? Are you like, really that desperate to cling to straightness? Because straightness is probably the most boring and unattractive thing ever okay, it's SOOO five centuries ago-"

"Donut if you're asking me if I wanna bang-"

" _No._ " Donut directs a puff of air up at his bangs. "I'm just trying to figure you out! Why do you have a problem with it when it's you?"

Tucker can go two ways. He can blow this off and make a joke. He can ignore the real topic here and save himself the trouble of asking himself that very question. It'd be easy to do.

He glances at their shared dresser. The bottle of hair oil sits on top. _I wasn't what my dad wanted._ He thinks about Donut sitting with him in the shade, arms around his knees, laughing like it's that easy to just care about somebody else, like it's not hard as hell to do. _We've got to look out for each other, right? We're the only ones from home out here._

Tucker sucks in a breath and just leaps the other way instead. "I...dunno." Donut makes a sound that doesn't mean a whole lot but makes Tucker feel about a billion times better, so he keeps going. "I guess I just never thought that was...me. Or something. Or _could_ be me."

Junior jostles the bunk as he climbs up next to Tucker and wedges himself against his back, burrowing into the covers and falling asleep in about ten seconds. Lucky little shit. Donut spends the time Tucker spends getting Junior tucked in and situated thinking, humming to himself and rolling around on his bed. "Okay," he says once the kid's down, and Tucker has the sneaking suspicion that pause was for his own benefit, "let's try this. No obligations here! And I'm not asking you out or anything, because to be honest you are not my type, no matter how hot you are."

"Okay," Tucker says for lack of any other way to respond to that.

"Why don't we kiss? Like, just a little making out. If you hate it, then bam, you probably don't like guys as a general rule. If it's pretty okay or if you like it, then you learned something about yourself. Sound good?"

"Is that how your magazines say it works?" Tucker asks, trying desperately to find something funny so he seems way more in control of this situation than he feels.

"Nah, they never have any real advice. This is how I figured out I liked guys. It worked out pretty good for me!" Donut sits on the edge of his bed all proper, knees together, hands clasped like a lady in waiting or some shit. "Come on Tucker. What happens in the desert stays in the desert. I won't say a word, we do this and get it out of the way and you feel better because you'll at least know something, one way or the other."

Tucker really can't think of a good way to say no. And if there was one person from that canyon who he'd be willing to do this with, it'd probably be Donut just because he doesn't seem to hang onto things forever like _some_ people. "...fine, okay. I guess. Yeah." He stands up, feeling like he's on a first date with the way his palms sweat and he kind of wishes his skin would suck that moisture back up because it's too dry to waste it.

"Hold on!" Donut reaches beneath his bunk for yet another cosmetics back and pulls out a little tube.

"Is that fucking chapstick," Tucker asks as he watches Donut apply and hold it out to him. He doesn't take it. He might kill the guy instead.

"It's my only one!" Donut protests. "And it's a brand name, I can't go throwing that ar- Tucker! Wait, st- Ack!" Tucker shoves Donut's standard issue cardboard pillow into his stupid chapsticked face in the hopes that maybe, maybe he can get away with murder out here, in this land with no laws. He'll let that go on his record and if anybody tries to jail him for it he'll tell them to live a fucking month in the fucking desert with _no fucking chapstick._

Junior makes a noise and Tucker can't exactly leave the kid without his favorite dad though, so Tucker lets Donut up and smears the chapstick all over his mouth. Fuck, he wants to cry.  
  
"Oh my god, you almost killed me!" Donut coughs dramatically and holds his throat, despite not being the least bit strangled. "That's horrible. I was going to share!"

"Fuck that, it's mine." Tucker pockets it and ignores Donut's protesting. "Shut up! This is payment for getting to kiss my hot as fuck face."

"Well, about face fucking-"

"NO."

"I wasn't going to ask!" Donut huffs, but seems to sense a battle he's not about to win and gives up. "Okay, fine. We can start this slow if you want?"

Tucker says, "Nah," and just grabs Donut and lays a kiss right on his mouth before he can lose his nerve. It's over before he realizes it started and he kind of sits there like an idiot, trying to remember something that didn't last long.

Donut snorts and sort of wipes his mouth, which Tucker can't help but feel insulted over. "Absolutely no romance at all, _that's_ why you're not my-" He doesn't get to finish because Tucker grabs him again, makes a fist in the soft locks of his mohawk and pulls him back in.

 _This isn't disgusting,_ Tucker realizes after a little while, the room filled with the sound of the wind whistling outside and the soft press of two people in an amount of space usually occupied by just one. It's not amazing, there's no fireworks or breath-stealing _thmpthmp_ s of the heart, but it's not terrible. It's actually...kind of nice.

He closes his eyes and gets his tongue into Donut's mouth, because this is better than asking Donut to tell him what foundations are currently _in_ and because Donut's hands aren't grabby or anything, but sitting really nice and strong on his waist in a way that makes him feel cool, really manly and cool and like how he always thought most dudes kissing each other probably felt.

* * *

"I could fuck anybody I wanted," Tucker marvels. He breaks a piece of probably really priceless sandstone off of some weird looking relief and chucks it off the roof. They're sitting up here like morons in the dark, ignoring the fact that earlier today Junior got on a ship with one of his kind and left. He cried, he clung to Tucker but ultimately he decided to go, and Tucker wasn't gonna stop him.  So they're up here, tearing apart a piece of Sangheili cultural history and pretending like nothing's wrong. Donut's been nice enough to play along, countless pitying looks aside. Tucker wants to punch him in the face. Or make out with him. Anything to stop thinking about it because it just _keeps cropping up_ and he didn't know he'd miss his kid so badly when it hasn't even been a day.

"I mean, within reason," Donut points out. "Pretty sure that sort of thing is case-by-case-"

"Yeah but my selection pool's doubled with just one bisexual awakening! I owe you a lot." Tucker glances over at Donut. "First time I lay a dude, I'll dedicate it to you."

"Aww Tucker, thanks! That's really sweet of you."

Tucker is on the edge of suggesting they make out again because even if it's not amazing it's _closeness_ and it's what he wants right now when the side of base lights up purple and green and yellow and white over and over, strobes like an outdoor club except for all the fucking screaming.

And then the silence.

Donut and Tucker look at each other and in unison they drop and press flat against the roof. Tucker motions for Donut to stay put and edges forward, slowly, quietly. His armor scrapes over the stone and he feels like it's probably loud as hell, but it isn't because he gets to the edge and looks down.

There's a team of people he's never seen before standing over the bodies of the last team. When they pick them up and start dragging them around the building, Tucker backs off and goes back to Donut. "There's a shitton of guys down there and they just killed Parker and the others."

"Oh no," Donut whispers, a hand to his mouth. "What- What do we do?"

Tucker stalls. Why is Donut asking _him?_ "...you- Go get help. I'll stay behind, close up the temple so they can't get in. They've gotta be after that shit we just dug up so that means it's important."

Donut grabs his arm. "I should stay and help you!"

Tucker shakes him off. "And what, starve to death with me? We don't exactly have a lot of food and water left. Anything that gets dropped is gonna get scooped up by those assholes. Relax, I'll be fine once I get in and all this shit likes my shiny badass sword anyway, so it's me staying. You get out of here, grab a Mongoose or something and find help."

Donut stares at him before jolting forward and pressing a kiss to his mouth.

They stay like that for a second before Tucker pulls back and whispers, "Holy shit, you are so gay."

"And I am _definitely_ not in love with you," Donut concludes, reaching for his helmet.  "That sucks!  I was kind of hoping this would be a really romantic parting, and that you'd say you'd always wait for me-"

"Go away Donut," Tucker says. He watches Donut leave, pulls on his helmet and takes a second to read the message Donut had sent him before sliding down on the other side.

**i'll be right back with help. don't you dare use up all my face cleansers while i'm gone, mister!**

Tucker smiles and mutters, "God I hate that guy," before snapping the sword hilt from the magstrip on his hip, taking a breath and jumping down to the sand below. It's party time.

**Author's Note:**

> skypefic, please forgive me my sins
> 
> took the title from [the 20 best cosmo headlines](http://thoughtcatalog.com/ted-pillow/2012/08/20-greatest-cosmo-headlines/) because i make dubious life choices in the late evening:  
> i'm not going to lie i'm probably going to use those any time i write a fic with donut playing a major role  
> or at all  
> maybe just from now on because these are fucking phenomenal


End file.
